Not Far to Go, Part Two
by Dance With Me Yo
Summary: Parker sets off Eliot's jealousy during a job, and the hitter takes his revenge. Smutty. Eliot/Parker. Second in a series of E/P.


A/N: I have an infatuation for the hitter and the thief - especially together. I love Hardison to death, just not with Parker. I've got about five ideas lined up for the series, each one being posted as a oneshot. So here goes.

_Not Far to Go _Series

One thing always leads to another. Some people aren't meant to be; others just click, whether they want to or not. Parker didn't have far to go to find herself in Eliot's arms - and according to Eliot, she doesn't have far to go to reach a new level of insanity.

A somewhat smutty series on my favorite non-canon Leverage couple.

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**Part Two: Funishment **

Eliot was beginning to think that Parker wasn't as crazy as he had originally thought - or maybe she was, but diabolical as well.

The job was typical - unusual in only one way. Hardison was hacking, Nate was manipulating, and _Parker_ was grifting as well as Sophie.

Sophie was perfectly capable of handling it on her own, but Parker was necessary for one miniscule, crucial element of the con. The mark, Jace Corner, was absolutely infatuated with blondes.

That simple.

And since Sophie, despite all her beauty, wouldn't exactly look right in a blonde wig, and they already had one at their disposal, Parker's duties increased with the job.

All Parker had to do was, in theory, seduce Jace to the point of him offering his office as the scene for their passionate rendezvous. Then, Sophie, who was working the mark in a more professional matter, would have him called away from his office on a faux emergency. Which left Parker alone with the bastard's safe.

The bastard who had drugged his wife, then anonymously tipped off her employer's that she was using, which resulted in a failed drug test and ultimately cost Debbie Corner her job. No one believed her accusations and Debbie found herself alone, unemployed and nearly homeless.

And the reason?

Poor Debbie had discovered her husband had been fucking every little blonde tart (Debbie was a brunette herself) that came his way, and she had planned on exposing him and ending their marriage of thirteen years.

This was what led to Eliot being forced into staring at "tarted-up Parker" - a slutty, giggly version of the thief.

And goddammit, she was looking so unlike herself yet so sexy Eliot couldn't help but groan inwardly at the sight.

Sophie had (very hesitantly) allowed Parker to choose her outfit, but not after much stressing of the criteria.

So the hitter blamed the grifter for the visual overload he was experiencing.

Parker was clad in a gray skirt that barely covered her rear, tight enough to show panties (if she were wearing any) and a flowing white shirt that was held together around her neck, and at the her lower back, exposing everything in between her shoulder blades to the beginning curve of her ass. A pair of slouching black boots finished the ensemble, and her hair was pulled up to reveal as much of her back as possible.

Jace managed an advertising firm that specialized in the eighteen to thirty-two year old target audience, so the agency was filled with the young and the fashionable. Which means, Sophie explained, that "promiscuous professional" was an acceptable look.

The face that Jace Corner owned and managed a firm with those qualities, despite being middle-aged and paunchy, seemed fairly pathetic to the team, as well as Debbie.

So, yes, Parker was dressed the part as a slutty professional down to a T, but there was one problem.

How the hell did they expect him to be able to get her out of that building safely when he couldn't stop staring at her damn legs?

It didn't help that the thief had only entered his mind as an intensely sexual being a few weeks ago, but she acted as if nothing had ever happened between them that evening on the roof. Eliot did the same, grateful for the lack of complication. But every once in a while the blonde did something - tiny, miniscule - that made him look twice at her, and he really thought it was for his benefit.

Or to merely mindfuck him into a state so unsteady it resembled her own.

Like the other day at headquarters when she had been wearing a low-cut shirt, lacking a bra as usual, and jumped right in front of him in an attempt to reach the coffee filters in the cupboard next to him. He had stood there with his own cup of coffee, watching with amusement but not offering help, smirking as he leaned against the counter.

It had hit him later that day that there was over half a pot of fresh coffee already made.

And now, her looking like that and completely avoiding looking at him (as well as Hardison, who she avoided at all costs, despite his many efforts to sit down and chat with the thief, who came up with every possible excuse not to be alone with the hacker. Just the previous day Hardison had asked if they could talk, and Parker had responded that she had to go put gas in her cat and feed her car, then fled. She didn't even have a cat.) was making him crazy.

Parker acting like he didn't exist to her anymore than before he had fucked her into senseless oblivion, was definitely on the irksome side for Eliot Spencer. And she knew what she was doing.

Maybe.

Earlier Nate had wrapped up the recap of their amazing, infallible plan without Eliot having heard a word.

"Are you alright, Eliot?"

His name had jerked him back into attention to see Sophie looking at him, dark eyes full of concern.

He had given a grunt that somewhat resembled "Huh?" and uncrossed his arms.

"You just look... well you're glaring at Parker," she said in her gentle tone, brows furrowed.

"Huh? No, I wasn't. I just... she was in my line of... That's just how I look," he finished lamely, pushing off of the wall he was leaning against and stalking to the door.

He had just _known_ that Nate and Hardison were looking at him oddly now, too, while Parker smirked away in her distracting get-up.

So Eliot was somewhat flustered in the beginning phases of the plan.

Nate and Sophie had been laying their groundwork the day before, posing as the wealthy owners of an up-and-coming modeling agency hoping to form a contract with Jace's advertising firm.

The greedy adulterer had been incredibly impressed by the couple's extensive model portfolio book (which Hardison supplied with the help of the web). Nate and Sophie had sold Hardison as the hottest new thing on the scene, and by the time the grifters were done with him he was practically salivating at the chance to use the hacker in a new athletics ad that he was under much pressure to produce. (Hardison had also fabricated the request for that ad as well as the pay for its speedy completion.)

Jace Corner was in hog heaven, riding high on a job about to be well-done and an obnoxious amount of money as a result. He was in the perfect mood for new mail girl Parker ("Avery Tracher", read the stolen name-tag with her picture posted over it).

The thief made her way to the second floor of the agency immediately after entering the building, wandering around as she listened to Hardison's directions while he watched her from the security cameras.

_'Now, Parker, stay calm. Don't overdo it. Let him come to you,' _Sophie said in her ear.

And just like Sophie said, Corner bee-lined towards her as he spotted her throwing envelopes - stolen from the mail cart - in trays on incorrect desks, bent over slightly.

"You're new, aren't you?"

Parker turned around, plastering a bright smile on her face.

"Yes?"

_'Not yes with a question mark, Parker, just _yes_,' _Nate corrected.

"Yes, yes I am. New." Her smile grew even bigger.

The mark looked her up and down, not even bothering to hide his apparent appreciation.

Parker flinched slightly, but managed to keep the smile on her face.

"I'm Jace Corner," he said, reaching down to her chest to pull her name badge into sight. "Avery. Pretty name. How would you like the owner to show you around?"

His leer made Parker shudder internally, and her hand itched for a fork to utilize as an aid in getting that man as far away from her as possible.

_'This guy's ridiculous,' _Hardison mused.

Eliot silently agreed as he wound his way through a row of messy cubicles and computer desks. He adjusted his own name-tag - acquired the same way as Parker's - and kept his eyes open for any danger. His hair was pulled back and his glasses perched on his nose - all helpful in playing the graphic designer that his ID stated he was. But the backpack - the green and blue plaid fucken _backpack _they were making him wear - was a little much, as necessary as it was.

The hitter came into the main working area, filled with busy desks and rushing employees. He immediately spotted the blonde thief across the room - she shone brightly in that white shirt, easy to spot.

Evidently she noticed him just as easily. Parker caught his eye over Corner's shoulder, and the coy expression she was plastering on her face for the benefit of the mark deepened into a genuine one. Eliot could hear her perfectly because of the earbud, the distance between them unable to prevent her words from reaching him.

'_I'd love a personal tour, sir,' _she purred, trailing her finger briefly down the other man's chest. Her glinting blue gray eyes flicked to Eliot again, and the corner of her mouth twitched. Before he could blink, her gaze was back on the man before her, looking up through her lashes.

'_Be natural,' _Sophie reminded her.

_God, she couldn't be any more natural than this, _Eliot thought.

Finally Corner nodded towards the hall, placing his hand on Parker's lower back with a large smile. He guided her and followed slightly behind her, his eyes raking over her backside with avid praise.

The hitter twitched.

'_Follow them up, Eliot. Stay close. I don't want to take any risks with this.' _Nate's voice this time.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind Parker and Corner, Eliot felt a twinge of panic. He took the stairs two at a time, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of the blonde thief alone with the older man, attempting to deceive him into thinking she wanted him.

He tried to convince himself that he'd feel the same way if it were Sophie; somehow the notion didn't stir the same feelings.

But, of course, he'd never fucked Sophie.

Eliot slipped from the stairwell (_'About twenty feet from the door to Corner's office,' _Hardison informed him) quietly, taking note of the building's security guard further down the hall. He was reading a newspaper idly, and there was no other activity near any other doorways in the hallway. That meant that Parker and Corner were already inside.

That thought was proven correct as he heard Parker's voice back on his earbud.

'_Lovely office. I like the view.'_

And Eliot could see her with her dark eyes focused, head tilted slightly down, that tiny smile that just hinted at crazy gracing her lips - and he knew that she was playing this role so well because she was thinking of _him._ He could sense it in the way she spoke, the way her tone stayed intrigued, sexy even.

Parker wasn't _that _good of an actress. It all had something to do with Eliot being able to hear her every word, and him knowing exactly how she looked at that moment. And how she looked after a moment was taken one step further, and all of her walls were let down, and only her body spoke for her.

Fucking… fuck. Goddamn Parker.

They were in the middle of a job, for Christ's sake.

And then he heard a little gasp of surprise come from the thief, and a weak chuckle.

'_Oh… um, do you have anything to drink?' _

'_I really don't have much time, baby. Why don't we make this quick?' _

And then the middle-aged fuck was _kissing _her, he could hear it, and the noise revolted him.

"_Now_, Sophie," Eliot growled, itching to take out the guard and kick in Corner's door to end the actions within.

She obeyed, and her voice was the next thing filling his ears.

'_Mr. Corner? Oh, please come downstairs. It's an emergency!'_

'_Can't it wait, Miss Lockhart?' _Corner was pissed, it was evident. Parker had really gotten to him.

'_No, absolutely not. The model you have booked for this afternoon - Dominic Shelton - he refuses to shoot the ad.'_

Eliot felt the shift in Jace Corner's mentality.

'_What? Why the hell not?'_

'_He claims your photographer has offended him… Oh, just come down here!' _Sophie threw a little extra exasperation into her voice, and Eliot wondered if she had felt as uncomfortable as him knowing what Parker was having to deal with.

The door to Corner's office flew open, and he could hear Parker inquiring about his abrupt departure. Corner ignored her.

"Escort Miss - whatever her name is, back downstairs, please, Marcus."

Eliot ducked back into the stairwell, waiting until he was sure the elevator had left with Corner inside.

"I'll just wait here," Parker was protesting as the security guard made to grab her.

"Come here, get back to work," Marcus snapped, jerking on her arm.

"I think she's fine here."

Marcus really hadn't expected his day to turn out like this. Throwing yet another whore out of Jace Corner's office, only to get knocked unconscious by a big guy with long hair and glasses. Wearing a backpack.

"That was… a lot easier than I expected." Eliot seemed almost disappointed as he glanced down at the immobile guard, then back up at Parker.

And everything she had been doing that day (and that ridiculous outfit) rushed back to him and he felt his eyes narrow as he took in her relieved face.

Parker's eyes widened the tiniest fraction before she cleared her throat.

"We're not done yet."

Oh, word play.

Once inside Corner's office Parker took a moment to locate the safe, as Eliot drug the guard inside an empty room down the hall. He entered Corner's office and closed the door behind him, leaning next to it as he watched her work.

"Who's a nice safe, pretty safe," Parker cooed at the simple inanimate object.

"Hurry up," he growled after a moment passed, and the thief was still crouched next to the safe they had found below a tacky oil painting and behind a filing cabinet, ear pressed against its door.

'_Eliot, get into Corner's e-mail,' _Nate commanded under his breath as the incident downstairs escalated. Hardison was making quite the scene, accusing Corner's photographer of being a tease because of her direct and blunt refusal to shoot his photo set without her clothes on. Which of course, he had demanded immediately upon their meeting a few minutes ago.

The hitter rolled his eyes and sat down with a sigh at Corner's desk, fiddling around for a moment before bringing the man's e-mail up. After a moment he let out a low whistle.

"There's some good stuff in here, Nate."

'_Good. Copy it all.'_

Eliot complied, musing at the multitudes of inter-office e-mails Corner had been sending and receiving from his female (more than likely, blonde as well) employees. Some seemed to be reciprocating, either to get closer to Corner's money or a nice promotion. Others were not as cooperative, and were saying so in their e-mails after Corner wrote each of them, hinting at services or merely demanding them. A few of the women seemed to be begging to keep their jobs, which he had threatened to take when he was denied any pleasure from them. Corner wasn't only fucking every girl he could get his hands on, he was forcing some into the act upon threat of termination.

The only comfort in that information was that the team had proof of it, enough of it to destroy the career he had built for himself, and Parker had taken more than enough money to aid Debbie with her house payments until another job came around.

"Done." Eliot stood up just as Parker shoved the rest of her plunder into his backpack.

The thief swung the bag over her shoulder and stood up. As she did so, a ripping noise was heard, causing both of them to freeze.

Parker had shut the side of her white shirt in the safe before she stood up, and now the flimsy top piece of the back was completely gone, causing the front to slip down off of her body. The material fell below her breasts, baring everything to Eliot's eyes, but not for the first time.

"Oh, God," the hitter groaned, gaze never leaving her chest.

Parker's eyes widened, frantically searching the desk. Parker may not have been modest in the slightest, but even she didn't want to attempt leaving Corner's office with a shirt that resembled the front half of a loose vest.

"Is there any tape?"

"_Tape? _What? Come on, Parker," Eliot grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the door, causing her to squeak in protest as her shirt slipped down to her waist.

"_Eliot," _she hissed, giggling and trailing behind him with a white belt and a backpack.

Why couldn't he carry the damn backpack so she could have a free hand?

They made it to the stairwell before Eliot shoved her against the wall, ridiculous outfit, backpack and all, and kissed her with everything he had. Her mouth opened in surprise and he promptly slipped his tongue inside, running it along her gums, relishing in her strained moan.

Eliot pulled away, leaving Parker panting and grinning up at him.

"Not here," the hitter managed to mouth at her, face tense with restraint.

_'Uh, guys? I can't keep this going forever. You out yet?' _Hardison's voice came over the coms, slightly hushed, so they paid attention, knowing the voice wasn't mere background noise that they could tune out.

"Almost," Parker quipped, running her hand over Eliot's groin, smiling deviously at his torn wince.

Okay, sex was something Parker got. Maybe not acting sexy (at least for someone she didn't care to be sexy _for_), but the act itself - she wasn't only a natural, she excelled at it.

Eliot was wondering if he was beginning to resent her for that trait. He bit back a groan as her hand pressed harder, and reluctantly pulled away from the thief, motioning for her to follow.

This time Eliot didn't grab her arm, so she had a free hand to hold up the remainder of her shirt.

She didn't.

Eliot checked outside of the stairwell door, searching for any stray employees that had ventured into the area. The stairwell, unlike the elevator, was at the end of the hallway that paralleled the working area. At the moment, the hall was empty, with only the people of various advertisements on the wall to see them.

But Eliot wasn't paying attention to the ads.

"Come on," he whispered, opening the door and leading the topless blonde behind him. Parker was still grinning and clutching the backpack. She knew Eliot had a plan, and it was probably a good one where no one got to see her topless as they fled the building.

Or he could take her completely by surprise and shove her into the supply closet a few feet from the door they had just exited.

The hitter shut the door behind them and cut off the beginning of Parker's question with his own mouth.

She suddenly didn't mind that the cramped room smelled of mops and bleach, or that her back was pressed against a CAUTION - WET FLOOR sign that hung on the wall because even in the dim lighting she could see that Eliot was looking at her like she was about to pay wonderfully for her hijinks that day. Then he was biting her neck and what the hell question was she going to ask anyways?

Eliot's mind wasn't functioning much clearer than hers. They were on a fucking job, if that guard woke up the cops would be called because Corner would know something was up and check his safe and they'd look for them and NateSophieHardison were just about to leave the building, he could tell on the coms and fuck there was Parker's hand again...

After that the thoughts racing through their minds were just white noise.

As soon as Parker reached out to him Eliot unzipped his jeans and pushed his underwear out of the way, freeing his aching cock. He wasted no time, quickly lifting her hips up to slam into her clenching pussy.

Parker couldn't help but let out a cry of surprised pain, mingled with pleasure.

_'Parker? You okay?' _Hardison's voice came through the earbud.

He was the last person she wanted to talk to while being _fucked by Eliot_.

Luckily, the hitter - buried to the hilt within her and slamming with bruising force at each thrust of his hips - answered for her.

"She twisted her ankle in the stairway. Give us a minute."

And yeah, it was hard to believe than an infamous burglar was clumsy enough to get injured on a step, and his breathing was heavier than it should be and his voice had a husky twinge to it. But fuck, Parker was looking at him with those blue eyes, biting her lip and clutching his shoulders to hold on for dear life.

So Eliot fucks her harder, nearly slamming her head into the shelf above, and her hands flail, searching for an anchor. The hitter catches Parker's hands in one of his just before she gets a grip on the rickety shelf, shaking his head in warning. Letting go of her to return to gripping her thighs, he lifted her legs up a bit higher for a better angle, causing Parker's mouth to open in an 'O' of pleasure.

She struggled to keep the sound within her, but managed, one hand now wrapped around his hair, the other grasping the wall behind her blindly. A mop fell to the right of them with a wet thud, and a clatter from God knows what followed soon after. Parker felt like the room around them was falling apart at their act - just as she was - from the inside out. She tightened her legs around Eliot, feeling the gathering pressure within her reach a new level, one that made her eyes water and her breathing pause -

_'What's all that noise?' _Sophie questioned, ever-present concern showing.

"Stop flailing... Parker," Eliot ground out in response, hoping the team took his complete lack of breath and vocal strain as irritation. And he really hoped they took Parker's general silence as intense pain.

But the look on her face - the open mouth and furrowed brows and flushed cheeks - said anything but.

Sure, the wet floor sign might be permanently etched into her back, but it seemed fairly worth it.

As the thief's muscles started their slow, building spasms, Eliot momentarily forgot about their earbuds and growled, "Bite down," and offered her his shoulder, in an attempt to keep them from being overheard by anyone nearby.

Parker's white teeth clamped down hard on the hitter, and he felt the sting of pain through his two shirts but couldn't find it in himself to care. Her body shuddered around him, causing him to find his own release, and he stifled his noise of completion by burying his face in her neck.

_'What was that?' _Nate's voice this time. Harder to trick, convince.

Eliot notices Parker still seems unable of any sort of halfway proper response, so he struggles through it.

"Just settin' her ankle. On our way out now."

Glad his vision was completely adjusted to the faint lighting, Eliot met Parker's own hooded, exhausted eyes over their entangled bodies, still bound together in the most sacred of ways.

She was grinning, victory in her eyes, and Eliot knew she felt proud to make him slip up, lose control, be reckless on a job. Because she was Parker, after all, and she lived for the danger and the thrills in life.

Afterwards, as they fled Jace Corner's advertising firm - Parker now clothed in Eliot's white undershirt and Eliot with his ponytail askew - the hitter wondered how the two of them were going to pull off the con they had going on the rest of their team.

He also wondered if the two of them would ever fuck on a bed.

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A/N: I hate to ask, but reviews would be lovely. And motivating.


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